Star Fox: It's Cold in Space
by XxSanitariumxX
Summary: A triumphant return made solemn by the coming goodbyes. Fox McCloud reflects on his life, his mission, and the woman that has so easily stolen his heart. One shot.


_**I've been doing some SFM work and I wrote this for one scene in particular. It's on the spot and unproofed and unedited but it's some fluffy Fox and Krystal fluff for the fluffheads in need out there.**_

_**~X~X~X~X~X~X~**_

The Great Fox drifted silently through the vacuum of space, bathed in a soothing orange glow of the arid planet, Papetoon. Staring in equal silence, the ship's captain could not find comfort in the sight of his homeworld. Hard questions besieged his mind and kept his weary head from the softness of his bed. It wouldn't be long before his home was but a glimmering light off in the distance, replaced instead with the tranquil blue of a far more gentle world. No small part of him wanted to divert course and make for the planet that bore him and raised him to be the fearsome mercenary he is today, but it was not due to the ache of nostalgia. No, it was the fear of loss that kept him wanting to delay his return to Corneria. For the moment they made landfall, she would be gone.

Had the beguiling vixen entered his life a mere week ago, or had she been there since the beginning? Without a doubt, he had become infatuated with every little thing the gentle Cerinian had to offer. Blood still rushed to his face just from thinking of the first time he laid eyes on her, how she floated there in suspended animation, awaiting for someone to rescue her from her plight. She was the most gorgeous thing he'd ever laid his eyes upon and without realizing it, he'd fallen for her as surely as she had when their eyes met. Something seemed to transcend the need for words and time and took up residence within his heart. It was something he'd only felt once before, but this time it was far stronger and utterly insatiable. It mattered not the time nor the place, if he could be in the company of his beloved vixen, the tod would jump at the opportunity. Hours ticked by faster than minutes on the clock. Every word she spoke he listened to eagerly, every time she laughed his heart was made free of burden, and every time their bodies touched he forgot what it was to feel pain. Something about this woman was breathing new life into him; a purpose he'd lost all those years ago when he enacted his revenge on the very man that destroyed not just his own life, but the lives of billions of people across the Lylat.

For a while, the man attempted to remain cordial and professional, but his wandering eyes could not resist the woman's curves, the heave of her breast, or the way her tribal clothes almost betrayed her modesty. More often than not, he found himself caught in the act, and yet she seemed to encourage his behavior. Once she spied him from across the room watching her bend over to retrieve her staff from the floor. Rather than berate him for being so ungentlemanly, the vixen's tail swung in such a way that her loincloth was brushed aside just enough to show the man where the blue fur ended and the soft white of her cheeks began. Though he tried to pretend he was misinterpreting her signals, he was no fool. Ever since he and his team had saved the Lylat system from the tyrannical rule of the Mad Emperor, women practically threw themselves at his feet. Though she showed a greater restraint than most women, it was obvious just by the way she looked at him that there was something there. Were it up to him, he'd take whatever that something was, and nurture it. He wanted to pursue her, to take her in his arms and promise her that he would never again let her be alone in this cold, dark universe.

Alas... he could not muster the courage to. Try as he might, the man feared the ache of rejection. Ever since he was a young boy and lost his mother to treachery and fire, he had erected walls around his heart. When his father died in such similar terms many years later, he had all but removed himself from the world. What scant few bonds he had with other were the last he'd forged. No one else was allowed to be a part of his life for fear of perhaps losing them, too. Of all the women that came and went, all the comrades in arms he'd fought side-by-side with, and all the denizens of Lylat that revered him as something less than a god but more than a man, they meant... nothing. How could they mean anything when he couldn't see them from behind the safety of his walls? That was how it was and how it would always be. If need be, he would live out the rest of his days in a perpetual solitude, clinging to the friends and loved ones he had left until they all left him one by one or his time had come.

He let out a long breath against the cold glass of his quarters' window. Yes, that is how it had to be. Though he loved her, and that love was reciprocated and begging to be indulged, he had to keep her at arm's length. Tomorrow they would make landfall on Corneria, and he would pull strings, call in favors, and twist some arms to see to it that she was taken care of. He'd set her up with a comfortable life on Corneria, away from him and his fragile heart where she could start anew. A girl as wonderful and talented as her could do anything. Hell, he wouldn't be surprised if he was inadvertently starting a future rivalry, what with how talented she was in the cockpit. Twice she had beaten him, something only Falco had been able to do and no one else. She would be a valuable asset to any team, and if she decided to strike out on her own, Star Fox would have to keep on its toes to stay relevant.

The man's ears twitched at the sound of his door alarm. "Who is it," he asked curtly, a little annoyed to be disturbed at this hour.

"It's me."

A chill crawled across every inch of his sensitive skin while a warmth flushed through his veins. Just the sound of her voice got his heart to beat faster. Without hesitation, he allowed her in and her scent carried through the room and to his eager nose. It was an impossible smell; something he could never grow tired of inhaling. It brought so many things to mind; the scent of flowers, the smell of rain, sweet memories almost forgotten, and the beguiling smell of a woman. More specifically, a vixen and her sex. Her loincloth and panties did nothing to hide it from his acute nose. Even at this distance, he could smell her, and it was already starting to drive him mad. He longed to bury his face in the source and fill himself with not just the smell, but the sweet taste of her honey.

He turned to her and nearly collapsed against the window from just the sight of her. She trembled in his doorway, still dressed in those strange and exotic clothes of her people. Though he'd offered her clothes of his own, she seemed to have forgone them instead for the comfort of her own familiar attire. Not that he was complaining; her brassiere, loin cloth, and jewels allowed for his eyes to drink in most of her form. A sea of the most regal blue with white clouds painted across her chest down to her naval and the secrets beneath her loincloth.

"Krystal," he said, savoring the way her name made his mouth tingle, "you're up late."

Still standing in the doorway, the vixen nodded. "Yes, I... I'm sorry to bother you."

"You're never a bother to me, Krystal," he blurted out against his own better judgement.

Krystal smiled at him and her tail started to wag. "I'm glad to hear that, Fox."

It was then that the man discerned her reason for such a late visit. Even without her say, he could see that the poor girl was freezing. Her body shook like the last frightened leaf on a tree. Regrettably, the Great Fox had fallen into disrepair of late, and one of the systems that suffered as a result was the life support systems. Though nothing major, the ship's heaters ran at only half their original strength. After a while, Fox and his crew had grown accustomed to the chill, but his esteemed guest was built for a much warmer climate.

"Come in. I'll get you something warm to wear so-"

"What is that?" she asked suddenly, her eyes befalling the red world behind him.

Fox's gaze drifted for but a moment to his home. "Papetoon; my home."

Krystal's sandaled feet swiftly crossed his room so that she could get a better glimpse of the slowly shrinking planet. "It looks lovely... and warm."

"Very warm," Fox admitted, captivated by the look of wonder that Krystal now wore across her face. "Even in the winter months it never gets this cold."

The vixen held her own arms and shivered all the harder. "Can we go there instead?"

He couldn't help but laugh with her, even though it saddened him he couldn't oblige her. Were he a lesser man, he would have stormed the bridge and brought the Great Fox in for landing at the nearest port for her. There was a thousand places he could show her and he'd show her every last one if it would please her. She wouldn't be cold then.

"You look nice," she said once they'd stopped laughing.

Fox felt as if he'd been subjected to a back-flip without his consent. "I... uh."

"I haven't seen you without your uniform before," Krystal said, her hand reaching out and taking hold of his vest. "Still got this on though."

His teethed gleamed in Papetoon's light as he gave her a goofy grin. "Yeah, um. I kind of got used to wearing it. It came in handy back on Sauria."

Krystal seemed to not have heard the tod, as her hand was now tracing along his shirted chest. His body became stiff, and his muscles that had been earned and honed on Sauria involuntarily flexed.

"You're... you're warm," said the vixen shyly, her body seeming to drift closer and closer to his.

"Y-Yeah," he said, his heart now hammering in his ears.

He had to stop this. He knew he had to stop this, and yet he was powerless as the vixen drew closer and closer. Without another word, the vixen's lithe and beautiful form pressed against his muscled frame. Her trembling seemed to cease all together, and a low murr of satisfaction sounded in her throat. His own body betrayed him, and Fox's arms immediately sought out the vixen. His left reached around her back and pulled her in closer by the hip; his fingers resting in the down-like fur of her tummy. His right reached up for the soft hand and held it, feeding his warmth into her frozen paw.

"Fox," she whispered faintly.

"Krystal," he whispered back.

Her cerulean eyes closed and she almost drifted off right then and there. Without the sharp teeth of cold gnawing through her fur and into her flesh, sleep seemed had come to the vixen at last. Already she started to doze, and would have slept on her feet all through the night if she had to.

"Fox, can I sleep with you tonight?"

Fox's eyes grew wide and his mind shut down. Normally rational and disturbingly logical, Krystal had disarmed him and now held him in a more compromised position than at gunpoint. He had to act, he had to reply. He couldn't just leave her waiting without a response like a fool. Swallowing hard, Fox let instinct take over.

"If that's what you want."

The vixen nodded and then yawned. "It's cold in space. I need something to keep me warm. I can think of nothing better than my hero, naked and pressed against me."

"Naked?"

"Preferably. Though you can keep your pants on if you don't think you can control whatever it is down there that makes your pants bulge. Though I don't mind if it pokes me," she giggled, ever the tease even when she was already half asleep.

"It can do more than that," he growled, his hand now rolling along her hip.

Her eyes opened slowly and she looked him dead in the eye. Something passed between the two of them that was could never be understood, nor explained. For just a moment, they were linked; their minds sharing together a love and comfort they had both been without for years. There was no denying it now. What was left unsaid was made known in a heartbeat. Their love for the other could be denied no longer. The games they played ended now. Theirs was a love that transcended this world, reaching far beyond the realms a mere mortal could understand.

"Show me," she said just before their lips met and their tongues met in battle.


End file.
